


A Little Give

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2015 Dean/Cas Secret Santa Exchange, A Bit of Fluff, A tiny amount of angst, Canon-typical language, Dean/Cas Secret Santa, Gen, Humor - attempted, Not betaed so probably a multitude of mistakes, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 03:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5612707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wants Castiel to stay. Sam thinks Dean should ask Castiel to stay. Castiel is, well, Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Give

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Psynatural](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psynatural/gifts).



> For Psynatural as part of the 2015 Dean/Cas Secret Santa Exchange.
> 
> I'm not sure I managed to even remotely meet the prompt I opted for, but I hope you enjoy it :)

The silence of the track up to the bunker was ruptured by a thundering explosion. Small metal fragments were propelled through the dusty air, the smell of oil and gas permeating Dean’s nostrils. 

''Oh, you gotta be kidding me'' he bitched, smacking the steering wheel with the palm of his hand and slamming on the brakes. Really, he had done the poor bastard that owned this misfiring piece-of-shit station wagon a favor by 'borrowing' it. 

Dean flung the car door open, stepping outside as quickly as possible. Relief washed over him, and he couldn't keep the grin off his face as he took his cell out of his pocket and sent a text to Sam, letting him know he was back. 

He started to undo the ropes that secured the car's load as Sam jogged up the steps towards him. Dean nodded to the roof of the car. ''Hey, could you imagine this on Baby?'' he shuddered.

''I thought you would get memory foam?'' Sam said, helping Dean hoof the mattress awkwardly onto ground, the protective plastic wrapping not helping. Dean waggled his eyebrows and nodded towards the large plastic bag on the passenger seat. ''I got something much more Cas.'' 

It was a struggle getting through the narrow front door, and then negotiating the stairs, but after much swearing from Dean, the almost-serious offer of looking up a useful spell from Sam, and a lot of sniping from both of them, the Winchesters managed to get to the spare bedroom Dean had designated as Castiel's. 

It was a few footsteps to the bed, and with a final push, Sam helped settle the mattress onto the bed frame. He looked softly at Dean, who was focused on making sure it was seated exactly right. ''I'm gonna go get the rest of the stuff while you finish doing what you're doing.'' 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Dean had guarded the notion of inviting Castiel to call the bunker home for a few months, gently willing it to grow into something he could verbalise. 

A few weeks earlier, he had been sitting in the library, thumbing the corner of the book in front of him. Dean could feel Sam's eyes burning into him. ''Dude, you've been staring at the same page for twenty minutes.'' He closed the book with a sigh, pushing his chair slightly away from the table.

He wanted to ask Sam if he thought Cas would want to stay at the bunker. When he didn't have other stuff to attend to, wherever he went when he disappeared. When he had finished whatever business that kept him away. And only if he wanted to. If he had nowhere else to be. 

Dean couldn't quite find the words to start. Instead, he rubbed at the back of his neck, in that spot that always seemed to tense up when he was avoiding his brother's gaze.

''I've been going through the rest of the stuff in the other rooms. There's some pretty decent gear we could use. If we can spring for a mattress,'' Dean smirked, all but air-quoting his pun,''there's enough stuff to set up a guest room. You know, if Charlie, or Garth, or whoever needs a place to crash.'' 

Castiel. Dean didn't mention Castiel. Sam knew it was a classic case of Dean continuing the age-old Winchester tradition of avoiding the issue of feelings. Sam decided to play dumb, like making sure Cas knew he could call the bunker home wasn't the most obvious course of action, and was just something decided on a whim.

''Sure, I guess. It would make sense, and it's way better than some crappy motel. We could set something up for Cas, if he wanted. I mean, it would be a nice gesture at least, don't you think?. We could just get it done and then give him the option, Dean. It doesn't matter if he says no if we were going to do it anyway.'' 

Sam waited for his brother to respond, wondering if he had said enough to take the pressure off. He expected a bit more resistance than he got when Dean agreed with an uncharacteristically simple ''Ok'' and a shrug. 

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Dean checked his watch. Almost forty-five minutes had passed from when he turned the ignition off to where he was now. He couldn't shake the low-level anxiety that demanded he did something rather than wait around for Sam to get his ass back inside.

He scanned the room for something to straighten up or wipe down. How long did it take to pick up a damn bag and move a damn car? He checked under the bed to make sure it was dust-bunny free. 

Castiel had never really shown an affinity for things. This made getting his room looking homely a challenge, but it was on it's way to looking somewhere that belonged to someone. Where someone belonged. 

Dean took the best of the furniture from the spare rooms in the bunker; it was mismatched, but good quality. The small chest of drawers at the base of the bed housed a set of sheets and a pillowcase. The lamp on the bedside table was angled towards the head of the bed so that Castiel could lie down and read if he wanted, and Dean had put another lamp on the desk that was flush against the furthest wall. He still wasn't wholly sure whether putting a bed in Cas's room was a dumb idea or not, but you couldn't have a bedroom without a bed, and he wanted Castiel to have somewhere to rest at least, even if angels didn't need to actually sleep. 

Dean heard the rustling of plastic from from down the corridor. Finally. ''About damn time'' he yelled. 

''I'm not late, Dean. Sam said to be here by two.'' Castiel answered as he reached the doorway. 

'' Son of a…. '' Dean muttered under his breath. ''Sam asked you? To meet him here?''

''Yes, he asked me to check some Enochian translations he's been working on.'' Castiel answered. '' He also said you needed to talk to me. And asked me to give this to you.'' He held out the bag from the station wagon towards Dean, stepping forward to meet his outstretched hand. 

''Sam didn't tell you I was coming, and you're…..expecting guests.''

''Yeah, it must have slipped his mind.'' Dean smiled tightly, taking the bag and tipped its contents onto the bed. Castiel looked down, reading the labels on the duck down mattress topper and pillows. 

''Feathers.'' he said quietly, running his hand gently over the words. ''You bought feathers? For comfort?''

''Yeah.'' Dean murmured. '' I though it would be nice. For you, if you want.'' 

Castiel canted his head slightly, looking askance. ''You bought me feathers? I am an angel, not a duck, Dean, what do you expect me to do with them...?''

Dean rolled his eyes. ''The feathers go on the bed, Cas. Your bed. Sam and me, we did this for you.'' You can fix it up however you want; and it'll be here so you'll always have somewhere to come back to.''

Castiel stared at Dean, eyes wide. Since his rebellion, Castiel's understanding of the difference between loneliness and being alone keened so sharply sometimes it was like he had never known anything else. Mission, purpose, arrogance, guilt, regret; there had always been something in the way of just saying 'yes'. Castiel's constant struggle continued to be finding his place in the world.

''Dean….'' he started, in that familiar melancholic resignation.

''Don't say it. If you're not going to do it, then don't say it. Just know that we're asking you to stay. _I'm _asking you to stay.''__

Dean tried to reason with him before the anger kicked in. 

''What is it, huh? I don't get it.'' He threw his arms up in frustration. ''Damn it, Cas. You don't have to stay forever, man, I'm not asking you to sign up for a freakin' lifetime of this. This is the safest place we're ever going to have, and I want you to have it too. Just give it a month. A month. See how it works out.''

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Castiel had adopted a number of very human habits. 

Returning the library resources to their correct places after each use was one of Sam's main bugbears, and the resulting bitch-face one afternoon after one of Castiel's book piles had toppled over for the fifth time in less than a week kept Dean amused for hours.

Slightly less tolerable were Cas's initial tentative attempts at learning to cook. There had been some disasters on the way; a few pans were beyond saving, and it had taken a while for Castiel to get the ratio of salt and pepper quite right. They had started doubling-up on buying eggs during supply runs, but Dean had to admit it was pretty good to have someone other than Sam cook for, and occasionally he let Castiel loose on his own with a recipe.

He still had to pull the 'I'm going to cook, and you're going to eat' card when Cas got surly about not actually feeling hunger, but he never passed up a cup of coffee. One particularly late morning, Dean had watched Castiel shuffle into the kitchen, bewildered and bleary-eyed, half-expecting him to just start shovelling the beans straight into his mouth with a water chaser. ''What, Dean? Remember, I watched you learn from the goats'' he muttered, sounding ready to smite something.

Dean seemed to be doing a lot more laundry now; not that he was complaining. Laundry, cooking, cleaning. Heh, he thought. Nesting again.

He could set up movies on his laptop that Castiel could watch but remain perplexed by, provide him with books and conversation and as much music as he could stand, but when Cas was doing whatever it was he did in the small hours, when everyone was either asleep or pretending to be, Dean wanted him to feel connected somehow.

When he took the pale peach blanket from his room and left it in Cas's, he had only meant it as a temporary fix. Dean was pretty sure he remembered Castiel saying something about angel mojo regulating body temperature, but couldn't stand the thought that he hadn't given Cas something as simple as warmth.

Castiel had quizzed Dean about the blanket the morning after it had made an appearance. Dean had vouched that yes, it was definitely warm and soft, and no, he didn't need it back straight away. If Cas thought it was awesome, he could keep it, no problem. There was no need for Castiel to say thank you in that tone of voice like it was the kindest thing Dean had ever done, even if it did give him the smallest of smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to mention Castiel's wings as you made a special request for a hint of wing fic if possible, but couldn't seem to make any of my ideas fit, so went with feathers instead.


End file.
